Dialectical Journal Essay

“Passengers flying Flight QF563, your gate is now open for boarding”, I peacefully sipped what remained of my coffee and waited for Joshua to finish his bacon and egg roll. Shortly after, we began to make our way to our designated gate. The smell of low-priced takeout food filled the air and couldn’t help, but leave me feeling overly excited. My son and I navigated our way through the clustered crowds of other keen travellers, following the signs above our heads as well as the announcements that were played through the speakers at the airport.

“Passengers flying Flight QF563, please be advised that Flight QF563 has been delayed for an hour, we apologise for any inconvenience”, the groans and murmurs from other passengers clearly demonstrated the irritation and anger that was felt by them. The airline we were flying with were one of the most reliable airlines in the world, so the fact that a flight of theirs was an hour delayed had obviously bewildered me, and a number of other people.
“What do you think happened to the plane?”, Joshua’s inquisitive personality for a 6-year-old had him constantly asking questions.
“Not too
I let out a blood-curdling scream, it felt as if it was a terrible nightmare, as if I would wake up and it would all be gone. Jayden would be lying down next to me, we would be in our warm beds looking at each other, but this wasn’t a nightmare, just identical to one. From that moment on I knew that the hardest part of this all was to continue living everyday. My worst fear, my worst nightmare, my worst horror had become a reality. A reality I wasn’t ready to continue with; a reality I would never be able to continue with. The emotions associated with losing a child are beyond inexpressible. My most cherished love had been taken away from me, and I would never be able to get him back